Tales From The Inside
by Princess of Ithilien
Summary: A collection of random little oneshots, starring all of those luvverly members of the Jedi Council, some Padawans, some Knights, some humans, some droids... and anyone else I decide to throw into the mix.CHAP5: DEEP FRIED WITH KETCHUP
1. Where's the Garlic?

A/N: Seeing as how I am lacking any inspiration whatsoever for my REAL Star Wars stories, I decided to just write a bunch of random little one-shots since a few times before that has helped me to get ideas for stories I need to update.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, as I am not George Lucas, but I do sincerely apologize for all the things I've put his poor characters through. Like Mace Windu. Poor guy. I really tortured him.(Only people who have read What Jedi Masters Do In Their Free Time will know what I'm talking about.)

**Summary: **An ornery Obi-Wan taunts allergic Yoda with garlic.

**Where's The Garlic?**

Master Yoda was just about to say something inspired and backwards when he smelled something. A split second later, he sneezed violently.

It couldn't be... he had give strict orders! Garlic was never allowed near him, and everyone knew that! Anyone going near him was to be searched by the security guards first. Maybe they had misunderstood his order...

There he sat, on his little chair, meeting with the Jedi Council, and he was sneezing every second or two. The first few sneezes were ignored, and Mace Windu tried to say something, but after a little while the entire Council just turned to stare at the little green being who was sneezing like he was trying to dislodge an organ or something.

"Garlic," he said, gasping for breath.

"_Garlic?" _Someone asked, incredulous. Yoda didn't respond, he simply sneezed again, scratching through the hidden pockets of his cloak for a hankerchief. He whipped out the hankie just in time to cover his nose. He heard someone snicker.

He glared at the members of the Council over his hankie, but they all looked innocent. Then he saw it. The toe of a boot, sticking out from behind Mace Windu's chair.

"Out, come, you rascal!" Yoda barked. Mace Windu quickly looked behind him and saw Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi kneeling there, garlic in hand.

He grabbed the neck of the boys cloak and roughly pulled him from his hiding place.

"Do this why?" Yoda asked, sneezing again.

"Throw that garlic out." Mace Windu ordered. Obi-Wan tossed it into the lap of one of the members of the Council, the farthest from Yoda.

"Er..." Obi-Wan stood nervously, his face turning red with embarassment. "You see, Master Yoda, someone told me that you were allergic to garlic, and I said that wasn't true, and they insisted that it was, and then they dared me to test it, and see if you really sneezed..."

Several members of the Council rolled their respective eyes as the Padawan continued to babble on, justifying his actions.

"...and I'm sorry." He ended, hanging his head and toeing the ground with his boot.

Mace Windu looked over at Yoda, who nodded.

"In punishment for this prank, Padawan, you shall clean all the floors in the immediate area. You will be given a rag and a bucket of water and you'd better have them clean by the end of the day."

"But, Master Windu, there are several rooms in the immediate area! And..." Obi-Wan babbled, wondering how Master Yoda and Master Windu had come to an agreement on punishment without even talking.

"And, you will wear a necklace of garlic for the next three days, so that you can see how unpleasant the smell can actually be." This was accompanied by a slight lifting of the corner of Mace's mouth, revealing some sort of sadistic humor.

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose in disgust. He himself hated garlic. It was really nasty. The taste was horrible, but he didn't care for the smell either.

He opened his mouth to argue again, but Yoda held up a silencing hand.

"Yes, Master." He trudged out of the room, kicking himself for not listening to his friend about Yoda's allergy.

Yoda sneezed one final time and put his hankie away, then began his inspiring and backwards sentence that he had been about to say before the entire ordeal. The Jedi Council leaned forward a bit and listened to him talk.

A/N: Yes, very random, I know. And weird. And... just odd.


	2. Interview: Luke Skywalker

A/N: My thanks to Cowgirl4Christ, my only reviewer! I'm not writing these little ficlets to get reviews, even though they are nice. I'm more writing them as an outlet to my insanity.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own nothing in the wonderful Star Wars world except for a copy of the movies. Wait... did that make sense?

**Interview: Luke Skywalker**

Interviewer: So, Luke, how are you doing today?

Luke: Just fine, thank you.

Interviewer: Well, as you know, I am here to interview you, and you are here to be interviewed. So I'll start asking questions. What do you think of when I say the word 'lula'?

Luke: _smiles strangely _Olives.

Interviewer: _scribbles on notepad _What is your favorite kind of music?

Luke: _tilts head while thinking _Well, I like most stuff. Hard rock is my favorite.

Interviewer: Hmm... interesting. What would you say is your favorite color?

Luke: I'm partial to rather dull, lifeless colors like white, brown, tan, and any variation of those three, though one time I went rather far outside my box and wore yellow.

Inteviewer: _raises eyebrow in question _Fascinating. What did you think of Yoda?

Luke: He's a puppet.

Yoda: _from backstage _A puppet, I am? A geeky boy, you are!

Luke: _rolls eyes _Stop drinking that scotch, Yoda!

Interviewer: _Whips head in the direction of backstage _Scotch? I mean, er... Have you ever written a story about your experiences?

Luke: Yes, actually. It's called _The Wonderful and Extraordinary Life and Times of Me, Luke Skywalker. _I'm getting it published.

Interviewer: Are you, now?

Luke: Yes. I'm going on a book tour.

Yoda: _hobbling out onto stage _Your book? The book is yours, is it? Write it, I did! I! I! _jumps on Luke and hits him with his stick _

Luke: _trying to throw Yoda off _Get off of me, you crazy green crab!

Interviewer: _gulping nervously _Er... we'll be right back after this commercial break.

A/N: Ah, the outlet of my insanity. I should've made one of these years ago. I have to get all the crazy stuff out of my head before I write anything good on my real stories.


	3. Cooking Time

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers. Now, more insanity leaking out of my brain!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.

**Cooking Time**

Qui-Gon Jinn was sitting in the kitchen, reading something, when his twelve-year-old Padawan, Obi-Wan, burst through the doors.

He immediately started rummaging around in the cupboards, pulling stuff out, putting it on the countertop, and slamming the doors shut.

Qui-Gon watched in bewildered amusement before asking Obi-Wan what he was doing.

"Cooking," the boy answered, pulling out a large bowl and a spoon.

Obi-Wan's Master raised an eyebrow in question. "Cooking?" he asked, in case he had heard wrong.

"Yeah. Someone just gave me this great recipe for some sort of spicy chicken rolls, and I really want to try it." the Padawan carelessly dumped some flour in the bowl and left the bag on its side, spilling white powder onto the gray metal counter.

Qui-Gon was still confused. His Padawan, cooking?

He decided to sit by and supervise, taking care that the boy didn't make too big of a mess. Obi-Wan dumped some chili powder into the flour and mixed it, then added water and a few other spices.

He left that sitting as he went to make some dough, putting flour and water into a bowl and mixing, then rolling it out and cutting it into inch-wide strips.

His Master had put the chicken into the oven, and Obi-Wan took it out carefully, cutting it and putting it on a plate.

He took the strips of dough, spread some of the flour and spice concoction on them, then put a few small pieces of meat onto them. One by one he rolled them up carefully, putting them onto a cookie sheet to be put in the oven to warm. He sprinkled cheese over the tops and then stood there staring at them for a moment.

"What am I forgetting?" He asked himself. Then he remembered. He ran over to one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle of hot sauce. Qui-Gon sat close by, alternately reading and watching his Padawan.

Obi-Wan opened the bottle of hot sauce and tried to get it to come out. He shook it hard, but not a drop came out. Finally he just started shaking it wildly over his head.

Qui-Gon looked up from what he was doing just in time for a few drops of hot sauce were freed from the bottle and landed on his face. A few drops went up his nose, and he stood there for a moment, his nose burning like crazy, before he sneezed. He sneezed five times before the burning sensation had gone down.

Obi-Wan stood near the counter, hot sauce in hand, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry, Master," he said in a small voice.

Qui-Gon went over and put a hand on the shoulder of the boy. "Next time, Obi-Wan, ask me to handle the hot sauce."

While his Master went to wash his face, Obi-Wan sprinkled hot sauce over the little rolls, stuck them in the oven, and waited impatiently for the timer to go off.

Ten minutes later, they were both seated at the table, munching the spicy chicken rolls.

A/N: Just a random pointless little story.


	4. Tomb Hunting Ideas

A/N: Soo...I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone, and I asked her what I should write about, and she said something about King Tut's Tomb. So, out comes another strange one-shot from me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or anything to do with King Tut.

**Tomb Hunting Ideas**

"Master!" Obi-Wan screamed, coming into the room. Qui-Gon covered his ears and shot an impatient look at his Padawan. "Master, I am going to find King Tut's Tomb!" Obi-Wan said, placing his hands on his hips nad assuming what he hoped to be a heroic adventurer pose. Qui-Gon's eyebrows were up so high they could have reached the ceiling.

"You are going to find King Tut's Tomb." Qui-Gon repeated slowly, wondering if Obi-Wan was insane.

"Yes!" Obi-Wan said excitedly, raising his hands in the air for no reason.

"Right..." Qui-Gon rubbed is temple, painfully aware of the newly developed headache. "Obi-Wan..." he began, but he was interrupted.

"I know, Master, 'it's not safe'. But I will be perfectly fine! It won't even take me that long. I have a map!" Qui-Gon sat quietly while Obi-Wan made a grand show of pulling out a thin sheet of paper with some scribbles and a large X on it.

Qui-Gon debated his options. A. Let Obi-Wan go on this ridiculous little mission, get lost somewhere, and die. B. Tell him that King Tut's Tomb was not accessible from where they lived, and that going there would give him a curse that would kill him to boot. Qui-Gon opted for B.

It took ten minutes to introduce the thought that King Tut's Tomb was a legend. It took him twelve minutes to get his Padawan to understand why. And it took a whole forty minutes to convince Obi-Wan that what he was saying was true.

Obi-Wan was crushed, naturally, but in a few minutes he was up and hopping around excitedly again. "Well, that's okay, Master," he said, practically hitting the ceiling with his head while jumping in excitement. "What about the Sword in the Stone?"

Qui-Gon groaned.

THE END

A/N: Yeah, really really weird and random one-shot. INSANITY RULES!


	5. Deep Fried With Ketchup

A/N: Sooo... another random story! Whoo! I've had this title in mind for a while, but I'm totally winging the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own this stuff. Well, I own the idea, the insanity, the randomness, etc.

Cowgirl4Christ: More pranks? Meaning?

**Deep Fried With Ketchup**

It was the day Anakin walked into the kitchen wearing a tuxedo with his hair slicked back that Obi-Wan wondered at how wise it had been to take the 'chosen one' as his Padawan. Lately the fourteen-year-old had been acting strangely... but a tuxedo?

Obi-Wan grabbed a cloth and wiped up an imaginary mess as Anakin settled himself into a chair, sitting straight as a rod and placing one arm casually on the table.

Obi-Wan Kenobi coughed, uncomfortable with the silence, dying to ask his Padawan why he was wearing a tuxedo.

Anakin spoke first.

"Bartender? Oh, bartender?" He shot a strange look at Obi-Wan and gave a two-fingered 'come here' motion.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot straight up. "_Bartender? _Anakin, what is going on?"

He leaned against the counter, staring at his Padawan, who shrugged slightly.

"My name is not Anakin."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Oh, really? Well, what is it, then?"

Anakin answered, in a fake, deep voice, "Bond. James Bond."

His Master smacked himself in the forehead. "Oh, my..." Obi-Wan muttered something that Anakin didn't catch.

"You've been rummaging in the storage room again, haven't you, Anakin?"

"Bond. James Bond."

"And you found that old box of holodiscs that I was keeping for somebody, didn't you, _Anakin?_" Obi-Wan purposely put a huge emphasis on the boy's real name, staring at him.

"Bond. James Bond."

"And you watched those old James Bond movies, and now for some reason are imitating them, aren't you, Anakin?" Obi-Wan looked at the ceiling in frustration at his Padawan's odd antics.

"Yeah."

"Anakin, go change out of that ridiculous suit and into your clothes, then come in here and help me make dinner."

"What are we having?"

"Chicken. What do you want on yours?"

"I'll have it deep fried, with ketchup." Anakin stood and slid out of the room gracefully as can be, calling over his shoulder, "And the name is Bond! _James _Bond!"

Obi-Wan shook his head and grinned, though he tried not to.

A/N: More foolishness. I don't know WHERE this one came from. Title pretty much has barely anything to do with the story.


End file.
